


At Odds

by mywordsflyup



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4771547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywordsflyup/pseuds/mywordsflyup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an obscure Orlesian noble claims ownership of your home and threatens everything you've worked for, you don't sit around and hope that diplomacy will save you. Even if it means sneaking out of your window in the middle of the night. </p><p>Lian Trevelyan tries to save the day. Josephine tries to be sensible. Nothing goes as planned.</p><p>(Giveaway Prize)</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Odds

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prize for [fleurdemonalis-a](http://fleurdemonalis-a.tumblr.com) who won 2nd place in my giveaway. Lian Trevelyan belongs to her.

“I can’t believe you are so calm about this!”

At the sound of Lian’s raised voice, Josephine finally looked away from her own reflection and lowered the brush in her hand.

“I’m not calm,” she said, the tiniest frown settling in between her eyebrows. “I’m being sensible.”

“Oh, and I am not?” It was a childish bait and Lian knew it. But she was tired and irritated and exhausted from traveling and being turned away like a beggar all day. Perhaps it was time for being a bit childish.

“At this very moment? No, you are not.”

Lian scoffed and slumped down on the bed. With growing irritation she watched Josephine turn back to the mirror on the dresser and continue to untangle her dark curls. She ran the brush through them with the same infuriating calm she had shown all day while she had led them through Val Royeaux. One bureaucrat after the other, every single one more useless than the last. And all of them utterly unwilling to help.

Lian sighed. “Josie,” she said, trying to keep her voice soft. “We have tried it your way and it did not work. Let me try mine now.”

The brush was tossed onto the dresser and Josephine whirled around in her seat. “And what would that be? Storming up the steps to the Grand Cathedral? Dragging the head of the Pellier family out into the street and challenging him to a duel? How is that going to solve anything?” There was that spark in her eyes that Lian usually loved so much - at least as long as it wasn’t directed at her.

“You suggested the very same thing to Marquis DuRellion back in Haven!”

Josephine scowled. “That was a completely different matter and you know it.”

“How was that any different from what we are up against now? DuRellion claimed ownership of Haven and you threatened to have Cassandra duel him for it.”

Josephine’s expression changes to something more exasperated. “That was a calculated threat, Lian. I knew he would not never agree to such an arrangement. But the Pelliers are different. They are using these claims to goad you. They want you to do something rash and to challenge them!”

Lian knew she was right but it did not make it easier to accept the situation. She was tired of waiting and she was tired of diplomacy. The Pelliers’ claim of ownership of Skyhold had turned from a ridiculous nuisance to a very real threat. They had laughed about it back in the war room. It wasn’t until they had arrived in Val Royeaux that they realized the severity of the situation.

The Pelliers were a small but powerful family and some of the last steadfast Chantry loyalist. _Les justes_ , they called themselves. The righteous. Their claim on Skyhold had nothing to do with land rights and everything with misplaced anger about the Divine’s death. It was war and the Pelliers had chosen the few weapons Lian could not combat with an axe and a shield: diplomacy and the Orlesian legal system.

There were documents, they had been told. Contracts and agreements. None of which they were allowed to see, apparently, despite Josephine’s best efforts. This was her domain, her battlefield. And Lian was enamored just by watching her talk around officials and dignitaries, calling in favors and using her connections. But even her battleships were lost with all hands when faced with impenetrable walls of the Chantry behind which the Pelliers had found refuge. With the Chantry’s support, their ridiculous claim suddenly had weight.

“We need to discredit the Pelliers,” Josephine said yet again. “It’s the only way to destroy their connection to the Chantry. Even the Revered Mothers will not support them then.”

“Or we could just break into the archives and find those documents ourselves. Burn them if we must.”

They were talking in circles. Their fight had continued from the streets of Val Royeaux all the way back to the small townhouse Josephine’s contacts had provided for them. They had given them two separate rooms - a faux-pas that had just enraged Lian even more. Now she was a little glad for it as she got up from the bed and stalked to the door. The silence that slammed down like a wall between her and Josephine signaled the end of the conversation.

“I’m going to bed,” Lian said and put a hand on the doorknob.

Josephine twisted in her seat, her eyes going wide when she saw that Lian was about to leave. “You don’t have to…” But she stopped herself, setting her face in a mask of determination. She lifted her chin and gave Lian a calculated look. “Have it your way then. I will see you in the morning.”

Lian felt dreadful as she left and closed the door behind her. Part of it had been a childish threat. She should have known that Josephine would not beg or budge from her position. And now she had to go to her empty room and crawl into her empty bed, all because of a stupid fight.

She did not fall asleep. Without the familiar feeling of Josephine next to her, the bed felt cold and damp, even in the warm summer night. Lian tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position. Every nerve in her body was alert, every muscle tense. She would not find any sleep tonight. With an exasperated sigh, she sat up, hugging the thin blanket close. Through the open window she could see the roofs of Val Royeaux and a few blue banners swaying lazily in the breeze.

She wondered if Josephine was lying awake in the other room as well. Lian did not doubt her. That wasn’t it. She knew what Josephine could accomplish with nothing but a quill, a piece of parchment and just a few choice words. But every second they wasted with bureaucracy was one second more that Skyhold was in jeopardy. Skyhold and all the people who relied on her to keep them safe. She had come to love the fortress with its high walls and endless corridors. The tavern that carried her name and the training yard where she had left blood and sweat and tears. The garden with its trees and soft green grass where she had hoped to be buried someday. Not burned like Andraste but returning to the earth. Becoming as much part of the castle as she already felt. That someone would threaten to take this from her was an unbearable thought.

Lian pushed away the blanket and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. There was a time for diplomacy and this was not it. As quickly as she could she put on her clothes and with one last look at the empty room she climbed out of the window.

The terra cotta tiles of the roof were still warm from the afternoon sun even hours after sunset. Just for a moment she considered asking Sera to come with her. Having a rogue on her side definitely would have made things easier. But she knew that what she was about to do was risky and she didn't want to endanger anyone else. So she made her way across the roofs of Val Royeaux on her own.

And honestly, how difficult could this really be?

 

* * *

 

She was in jail. Lian of House Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste and Leader of the Inquisition, was in jail. It is wasn’t even a very nice cell either.

Lian had her suspicions that if it had not been such a mild summer night, she would have been in danger of freezing to death in this hole. Even so, the damp dungeon walls seemed to suck any warmth out of the air and she did not dare to take the threadbare blanket from the cot since it was covered in stains of dubious origins. Instead, she paced the small room, hugging herself against the cold and against the hollow feeling of dread that had settled in her stomach.

Josephine would be so mad.

And it had all started so promisingly. Even without Sera’s intricate knowledge of the city's back alleys and secret tunnels, Lian had made her way to the Chantry’s archives swiftly and without encountering any obstacles. Even breaking in through the servants’ entrance had not proven very difficult. In theory, there was not much difference between that lock and the ones on abandoned buildings all over the Hinterlands. And she had seen Varric and Sera do it a hundred times.

The trouble had only started when she had been inside the building and had tried to navigate through the rows and rows of high bookshelves, cutting through the room like the walls of a labyrinth. They had been markings on the edges, handwritten plaques standing out against the dark wood. Lian had recognized the sort of shorthand that Josephine often used in her notes. Swift lines and dots that make no sense to anyone but the few adepts. They certainly had not made any sense to Lian.

And things had only gotten worse when the city guards had stormed the hall and caught her redhanded as she had just been about to pull a leather-clad tome from one of the shelves. Alone against ten armed men? She knew when there was no point in fighting.

She also knew that she had been lucky that it had only been the city guard. Something in the back of her mind told her that if she had encountered some of the Pelliers’ own men she would not have made it out of the archives alive.

 _They want you to do something rash_ , a voice that sounded eerily like Josephine reminded her. Stupid. So stupid.

She walked back to the rough stone wall at the back of her cell and craned her neck to look out the narrow barred window - the only connection to the outside world. She could see nothing, not even a sliver of sky. It was still dark outside, not four hours had passed since she had snuck out of her window like a thief in the night. Or a lovesick teenager. The thought made her groan, embarrassment mixed in with the hollow feeling in her stomach.

There were noises in the distance, other than the soft rustle of the wind and the cicadas singing outside. Footsteps. The sound of a door opening and closing. But the walls were thick here, swallowing sounds as much as heat. It could have been anything. Or nothing. Perhaps just a figment of her imagination after all.

It was only when the familiar cadence of a voice carried through the cold stale air towards her that she let herself believe.

“Believe me, Guard-Captain Hyland. Your displeasure about this situation does not even come close to mine.” The voice was still muffled, far from her. But she would have known it anywhere.

More footsteps. A key being turned in its lock. And then, Josephine stepped into the hallway, a stormcloud of gold and blue and fury.

There were three men at her heel. Lian recognized one of them, a large grey-haired fellow with sharp blue eyes, as the man who had locked her into this dreadful hole. But instead of the icy glare he had given her before, there was now an expression of utter discomfort on his face.

“Would someone be so kind as to tell me why the Lady Inquisitor is currently in a cold dark cell? Is this how the Orlesians treat their noble guests nowadays?” Josephine whirled around to face Lian’s jailor. “If that is the case, things must have changed drastically since my days in the capital.”

The man tried to square his shoulders, working up to defend himself, but Josephine did not give him the time to do so. Instead she turned to the other two men, bleary-eyed youths so completely out of their depth that Lian almost felt pity for them. Almost.

“So, is one of you going to open this door and free the Herald of Andraste or are we going to stand around here all day?” Josephine folded her arms, one foot tapping impatiently on the filthy stone floor. Lian shook her head in disbelief. She would have winced at the title if it weren’t for the cold cell and the fire in Josephine’s eyes. Even here, even surrounded by damp walls and rusty bars, this woman was an absolute marvel. Her hair was in disarray and underneath her coat, Lian saw the hem of her nightgown peeking through. But there was no question who commanded this room. And one of the younger men seemed to have understood that as well as he stepped towards the cell door, after one more uncertain look at his superior. He hesitated, his hand hovering above the lock.

“Lady Montilyet,” the guard-captain said, wringing his hands. “I am afraid there isn’t much I can do. There are orders. Laws. The Lady Inquisitor was caught in the act. I cannot just…”

Josephine made a dismissive hand gesture, her face a mask of annoyance. “Please. I know all about your orders. And about who gives them.”

Wariness flashed over the man’s face. “I do not catch your meaning, Lady Ambassador.”

Josephine brushed an errant lock of hair behind her ear and the corner of her mouth quirked up. “I’m sure you do. I do not judge, monsieur. Pockets need to be filled. Wages need to be paid. These are hard times for all of us, after all.” Her tone was softer, almost innocent but Lian knew that gleam in her eyes. There was nothing innocent about this exchange.

The guard-captain shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his armor clanking in the uncomfortable silence. “I do not appreciate the insinuation, milady.”

“Naturally.” She fixed him with a stare. “I am telling you this in good faith, monsieur. But when the sun rises in the morning, you will regret not standing with me on this. Here is the thing about secret benefactors. If they fall from grace, so do you.”

The man searched her face and Lian could almost hear the cogs turning in his head.

“There is going to be talk in the morning,” Josephine said, her voice just a little bit more insistent now. “Scandal even. And you do not want the city guard to be involved in it.”

“The Pelliers…”

“Let’s just say I would not count on their support, monsieur. Not after tonight.”

The guard-captain’s eyes flicked from Josephine’s face to Lian and back. There was uncertainty in his eyes. Subtle cracks in his adamant exterior. Lian knew men like him. Strong-minded and stubborn. An unmovable object. But even those could be worn away when met with a force like Josephine. Relentless like the sea.

“I need reassurances,” he finally said, his voice almost too low for Lian to hear. “If I let her go now…”

“Then we will not speak of this unfortunate affair again,” Josephine said. “You have my word.”

Another moment of hesitation. Then a curt stiff nod.

Josephine’s eyes flicked to the young man still hesitating at the door. She gave him a bright if somewhat strained smile. “If someone would be so kind as to free Lady Trevelyan from her cell?”

 

* * *

 

 

It was not until they had left the dungeon and put a good few twists and turns between them and that wretched hole in the ground that Josephine stopped to confront her.

“What were you thinking?” She grabbed Lian by the arm, her delicate fingers surprisingly strong. “Do you have any idea what kind of danger you put yourself in?”

Lian felt defensiveness creeping up her spine despite still feeling the dread of the cell lingering in her bones. They had reached the harbor and the early morning air was brisk but at least succeeded in driving the damp smell of the dungeon out of her memory. “I could not sit idly by while these people threatened our home. I had to do something!”

Josephine threw up her hands in an exasperated gesture. “Could you not have waited one more day? Just one? Before risking your life and everything we have worked for?” She shook her head, disappointment plain on her face. “Could you not have trusted me with this?”

Lian opened her mouth to protest but the words hit her harder than she expected. “I…” She ran a hand through her hair, suddenly exhausted to the bone. “Of course I trust you. I should have…” She sighed. “I should have waited.”

“You should have,” Josephine agreed, only a little calmer than before. She hugged herself against the wind and frowned. “I had a plan. It would have worked, I’m sure.”

“Wait.” Lian felt her stomach clench. “Are you saying all those things you threatened the guard-captain with were just a bluff? There is no scandal?”

Josephine made a vague dismissive hand gesture. “Oh no. There is a scandal. One that will ruin the Pelliers for next few generations, I’d wager.” Her frown deepened and she turned away to look out over the water. “And as much as it pains me to say this, we never would have found out about it if it hadn’t been for your little arrest tonight. All it took afterwards were some quick messages to the Grand cleric.”

“So you are saying that my plan worked?” Lian would have grinned if she had not been so surprised.

Josephine huffed. “Oh, no. You will not twist it like this!” She whirled around and pointed at her with an accusing finger. “What you did was reckless and foolish and dangerous. And all the good that came out of it was sheer luck. Nothing more.”

With a sigh, Lian leaned back against the railing and folded her arms. “But the Pelliers, they are no longer a threat?” There was just the tiniest flame of relief flickering in her chest and she worried her bottom lip as she waited for Josephine’s reply.

“Well,” Josephine said and straightened a non-existent crease in the fabric of her coat with the palms of her hands. “When they heard that the Inquisitor had been arrested for trespassing and theft, they got careless in their excitement. And young Marcus Pellier happened to be in a very… compromising location at the time.”

“A brothel,” Lian guessed.

“Much, much worse.” The hint of a smile tugged at Josephine’s lips and Lian tried to remember the stories she had heard about Orlesian depravity. “Let’s just say that the Chantry would have a difficult time supporting someone who is known to frequent such establishments.”

Lian shook her head, relief washing over her in waves. “Did you know this would happen?” she asked because knowing Josephine, the idea was not so far-fetched.

“Did I know that you would sneak out in the middle of the night, get arrested by the city guard and that this would lead to Marcus Pellier being dragged out of Val Royeaux’s filthy underbelly in a way that would forever ruin his family’s reputation? No, Lian. I did not.” She sounded exasperated but the anger had gone almost completely out of her. She looked tired, Lian realized. Exhausted.

With one swift motion, she stepped forward and drew Josephine into her arms. There was resistance at first, just the smallest stiffening of the body, but then Josephine relaxed into the hug, their bodies interlocking like they were always meant to.

“I’m sorry,” Lian mumbled into her dark hair. “I did not mean to frighten you.”

“And yet you did,” Josephine said but did not pull away. “You could have been killed. If Leliana’s contacts had not warned me in time…”

Lian made a noise that she hoped sounded soothing and untangled herself from the embrace to look into Josephine’s eyes. “But they did. And I still live. A talent of mine, it seems.” She lifted her hand to brush her thumb along Josephine’s cheek and was relieved when she saw her leaning into the touch.

“I wish you would not rely on it so much,” Josephine said but her voice had gone softer. “Your luck is bound to run out someday and I cannot bear to think about what will happen then.”

“Why would I need luck when I have you swooping in to my rescue?” Lian laughed as Josephine ducked her head to hide her smile. “Look at you. Not even fully dressed and taking down a noble family before breakfast.”

Josephine’s laugh was low but the steep line of worry between her eyebrows was gone and her shoulders a little bit more relaxed. “Your attempts at flattery will not make me any less cross with you, Inquisitor.”

“That will not keep me from trying,” Lian said and leaned in to place a small kiss on her cheek. “You are marvelous.” Another kiss on the tip of her nose. “You are astounding.”

Josephine huffed. “And you are incorrigible.” But she looked up at Lian and her eyes were gleaming in the first light of the sun slowly rising over the harbor.

“Don’t I know it.” Lian pulled her close and kissed away the fears of the night as the city awoke all around them.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also follow my [tumblr](http://damnable-rogue.tumblr.com) if you're interested.


End file.
